


A Mountain In My Way

by AceDiamondis



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:16:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6626854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceDiamondis/pseuds/AceDiamondis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In her head, Sara imagined coming home changed, for the better. A hero, a <i>legend</i>. She didn't picture a tombstone waiting for her when she got back to 2016.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mountain In My Way

**Author's Note:**

> Works with canon up to Arrow 4x17 and assumes LoT ends with the team being returned to their timelines. Can you tell I'm bitter about everything Arrow chooses to be these days?

With how crowded the courtroom was, it was all too easy for Sara to slip into the crowd, completely unnoticed by friends and family sitting a few rows in front of her. She watched Darhk, absurdly confident, smirking. The last thing he’d expect was a knife flying past the crowd, hitting him right in the back of his head. He knew the people he fought against weren’t killers. The Green Arrow didn’t have the body count of his predecessor.

 _“As tempting as it may be, stick to the plan,”_ Rip reminded her over comms. _“We’ll get him. I promise you, Sara, we’ll stop him.”_

Her fingers tapped the hilt of the knife she snuck past security. One throw, quick and easy.

Laurel stood up, calling Diggle to the stand. Sara took a deep breath. Laurel was alive, she’d still be alive for a few days, and Sara, technically, had all the time in the world to stop that future from ever happening.

“I know,” she said, remembering crouching in front of Laurel’s grave a day ago from her perspective, her father at her side. Sara glanced at him, looking so proud of Laurel. Funny how this was the first time Sara had really seen Laurel the lawyer in full force. Confident, whip smart, well-spoken.

One way or another, Darhk would die. Soon.

  


 

According to Gideon and all the information her dad could provide, the perfect opportunity to kill Darhk while keeping the effects to the timeline minimal was when he had been in jail, attacked by a group of other inmates. They hadn’t stood a chance against Darhk’s League training. They returned, angrier, with weapons to his cell. By knocking them out and putting on a prisoner uniform, they could take their ‘place’ in the timeline. Do what needed to be done.

  


 

Snart tilted his head toward Darhk. “Honour is all yours,” he said solemnly, no hint of his trademark drawl. He had a sister too. Sara knew he’d tear time and space apart in a heartbeat if that was what it’d take to save his sister, just like she would.

Darhk grinned. “Sara Lance. I hoped I’d get the chance to meet you. Last I heard you left town, fell off the grid completely. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“My family.” She let the knife up her sleeve drop into her hand. His eyes darted to it then back to her face, her eyes. “You threatened them. After what they did to put you in here, you’ll kill them. I’m not going to let that happen.”

The smile fell from his face. He knew a killer when he saw one. “What would that family think, knowing you’re here, what _you’re_ about to do. Your father, the police chief. Your sister, the district attorney. Do you think they’ll welcome you with open arms when you’ve killed a defenseless man, one they worked so hard to put in here legally?”

“I was a member of the League for years. You wouldn’t be the first I’ve killed.” Sara twirled the knife, watching him, his expression. She wanted to see him suffer, to feel even a little bit of the pain she’d seen in the future. If she had more time she would have put her training to good use and have him die over the span of a week.

He gritted his teeth. “And what about honour? I was in the League too, once. It’s not very sporting to have two of your goons behind you.” He gave them a once-over. “Both armed with strange looking guns. Don’t suppose I could convince one of you fine gentlemen to turn against her? I’m very rich, very powerful,. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

“I’ve seen what she can do,” Snart said, leaning on the wall, keeping a lookout. “Clearly, it’s not a good idea to piss her off.”

“Hate to interrupt this quaint little chat but,” Rip said, pointedly tapping his wrist.

Right, she agreed to follow the plan. It sounded reasonable when Rip outlined it while aboard the Waverider. Now, though… Sara felt that buzzing under her skin, blood lust begging for an outlet. She learned to tame it while stranded in the 50’s but god, if anyone deserved to have a feral Sara launched at them it was Damien Darhk. She could imagine the relief that came after a kill, the momentary bliss of finally having her blood lust gone.

“Sara.” Rip, again.

She focused on her breathing, trying to center herself. _There is a cure, it’s called being better._ Darhk hadn’t been completely wrong. What would Laurel think when she saw the level of brutality Sara unleashed in her name? Laurel was too _good_ to be anything but horrified.

A quick death, even if he didn’t deserve it. He tried to block her swing but she kicked his feet out from under him, using that opportunity to slip past his guard and slice his throat open. Darhk pressed his hand against his throat, blood gushing out between his fingers, any last words turned into awful gurgling noises. He collapsed but the blood kept coming. The great Damien Darhk, dead in a Star City jail cell with his plans in ruins, name tarnished. Going out with a whimper. There was a sort of justice in that.

Sara dropped the knife next to the corpse. Rip put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said.

  


 

Savage gone, Darhk dead, the world saved at least for now. All there was left to do was move on, to live.

  


 

“How was the, uh, time travel saving the world whatever,” her dad said awkwardly. Despite all the strange shit that had happened in their lives and would undoubtedly keeping happening, her dad was still slow in getting used to the changing times.

Sara shrugged. “Weird.”

“But you’re back for good, right? Not just stopping by for a visit?” he pressed. She noticed Laurel glance up from her phone, a failed attempt at being sneaky.

“I’m staying. I’ve missed being here, at home. It’s been... a very long time.”

They both beamed at that. Sara felt a pang of guilt for constantly coming in and out of their lives. She had a taste of what that was like when she returned from her great time traveling adventure to see Laurel dead, her father absolutely crushed.

“What are you looking at on your phone?” Sara questioned. “You’ve been glued to it all night.”

“Work stuff. I don’t know how much you know about what’s been going on here while you were off saving the world but Damien Darhk was murdered in his cell a few days ago.” Laurel finally put her phone down on the table beside her dinner plate. “It’s still being investigated but they think it was just some criminals trying to make a name for themselves by taking out the famous Damien Darhk.”

“But you don’t think so,” Sara stated.

“I’ve seen him fight. There’s no way anyone being held there could have beaten him, weapons or not. He still has his years of League training, you know how dangerous that makes him.”

“If you ask me,” Quentin cut in, “it’s good riddance. He got what was coming for him and I’ll sleep a lot easier knowing he’s not out trying to kill you.”

“It could mean someone has decided to cut him loose now that he’s not useful anymore. Someone or someones just as dangerous,” Laurel argued. “A lot of his Ghosts are still out there. It’s not over just yet.”

Sara smiled a little. “Not exactly quaking in my boots over some of these ‘Ghosts’. They weren’t so tough last time I faced off against them.”

“We don’t all have your training,” Laurel said dryly, shooting Sara a look.

“You could,” Sara offered. “I have to do something with all this new free time I have now I’m not traveling through time.”

She nodded too quickly, clearly very pleased at not having to ask. “I would _love_ to kick Oliver’s ass. You should see the smug look on his face whenever we’re doing group sparring session and he wins against all of us. He’s been especially intense since he and Felicity broke up.”

“Sounds like he might be getting an ego from picking on small fry.” Laurel scoffed, offended. “I should give him a good ass-kicking, deflate things a little.”

“Don’t suppose it’s too late to hope my two daughters decide to give up the vigilante life once and for all?” he said, having finished his plate while they’d been talking. At their blank looks, he gave a long suffering sigh. “Well, can’t say I didn’t try.”

Laurel reached over to pat him on the shoulder. “Stop worrying so much. You’ll get wrinkles. We’ll be fine.”

They would be. Sara stared down at her half-finished plate. Time wanted to happen, that’s what everyone kept saying. She’d seen two different futures where Laurel was dead. Murdered.

  


 

Oliver bent his knees to get into the right stance. She saw Ra’s in the way he gripped his sword. Right, she remembered, Oliver had almost become Ra’s Al Ghul in the year she’d been dead. It still felt like someone trying to prank her whenever anyone mentioned something that happened then.

They exchanged a few casual slashes and swings, both getting a measure of the other’s skills.

Okay so, he wasn’t terrible. This might be more of a challenge than she thought.

“Have you seen Nyssa yet?” Oliver asked as they circled each other, trying to find an opening.

She raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a questioning look. He shrugged. “We were technically married and you’re a friend. I’m allowed to wonder, aren’t I?”

“Not yet,” Sara admitted. She lunged. He stepped to the side, dodging, and countering with a slash of his own. She met his blade head on, pushing him back. “I’m not sure if she _wants_ to see me. Laurel told me she asked about me when she was last in Star City but…”

Nyssa better than anyone knew the effects of the Lazarus Pit. She hadn’t taken kindly to Laurel bringing Sara back to life though maybe she had changed her mind since she went out to search for a cure to the blood lust and came back to Star City with one. Feelings, romance especially, were such a pain in the ass. Her brief fling with Lindsay showed how intense these things felt for her now. Stein thought it had been so romantic for things to be as if they were happening for the first time. Things were always so complicated with Nyssa already without throwing that into the mix.

“Give it a shot, Sara, you never know what might happen. Nyssa’s had time to think.”

“Oliver Queen, the optimist.” She rolled her eyes. “Should you really be giving advice right now?”

He winced.

“Sorry. The definition of ‘too soon’ changes a little when you’ve been time traveling,” Sara said. She spun to add momentum to her swing. His sword was knocked from his hand, skittering across the floor. With the tip of her sword against his throat, he smiled and raised his hands in surrender.

“That hasn’t seemed to affect your sword fighting skills.” He glanced over to his fallen sword. “It’s nice to have you here. Training with the rest of the team doesn’t give me much of a challenge. I might get rusty.”

“Is that your way of trying to get out of talking about _your_ love life?” Sara challenged.

“Maybe.” Oliver shrugged. “I’ve already gotten some pep talks from everyone about Felicity. Wasn’t looking forward to hearing one more.”

“You brought it up, remember?”

He picked up his sword and sighed. “My mistake, won’t happen again.”

Should she be merciful or go in for the kill? She hummed, weighing the two options. “Alright, fine, I’ll let you off the hook, just this once.”

“Rematch?” Oliver asked.

Sara answered by taking another swing.

  


 

Neither of them left a phone number or any reliable way to contact them. Sara hadn’t expected them to. She thought maybe they knew she was more capable of tracking them down whenever she felt like it.

Sara waltzed into the bar, sliding into the booth where Mick and Len sat, drinking and sharing a plate of fries.

“Blondie,” Mick rumbled in his exceptionally deep voice.

“Little far from home, aren’t you,” Len drawled.

“Got family and friends in Central.” Sara reached over to steal some fries off the plate. “Decided to stop by and visit you two while I was here, make sure you’re not getting into too much trouble.”

Mick narrowed his eyes. “You going to arrest us if we are?”

“This isn’t my city. Central’s got their own heroes.” Sara shrugged. “Kendra’s one of them, you know.”

“We saw it on the news. Hard to mistake a lady with wings for someone else.” Len smirked. “Did you think that we’d become good, respectable citizens just because we worked to save the world from Savage with you hero types?”

“More of a vigilante than a hero,” Sara said. She imitated Rip’s accent, “or a _legend_.”

Mick huffed out a laugh. Len gestured, and the bartender came over to drop off a bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses.

If she was honest, she liked them. Hanging out with Mick and Len reminded her a bit of her teenage years, the no-good delinquents she used to surround herself with. She could imagine her father’s face if he knew the company she was currently keeping. Maybe he’d think they were step up from cold-hearted assassins. Other than Nyssa. He seemed to like her now that he’d gotten to know her more and she stopped kidnapping his ex-wife.

“Feels like lifetimes since I’ve been home,” she said when they finished the first bottle. “Things are different. I’m starting to wonder where I fit in, now. Everyone’s moved on.”

“You’re getting sentimental on us,” Len accused. “What, did the Green Arrow and his pals not invite you to their weekly meetings?”

“Haven’t heard of any robberies by a guy in a parka, despite all that talk about going back to your old life. You going soft on us, Snart?”

Mick smirked as he poured them another round of shots. “She’s got you there, partner.” He and Sara threw back their shots while Len pushed his glass further away from himself, shaking his head. “Blondie’s right. I’m not the same man that left. Things were simple for him, money, setting the world on fire. Me, I’m not so sure.”

“Going from waging war against an immortal across time and space to robbery is bit of a downgrade,” Len admitted. “When I make my comeback, I want to make a splash. Something challenging. It takes time to find just the right target.”

“Sounds like a load of excuses,” Sara said.

“Laugh it up, Lance, I haven’t seen a woman in white leather spotted around Star on the news either.”

“Don’t you know you can’t go home again,” Mick quoted. “Aren’t we a sad lot. Lost in time. Adrift.”

Mick drank Len’s shot. Sara filled up their glasses.

  


 

As morbid as it was, Sara visited her own grave sometimes. No one had gone through the process to have it removed yet. Smart move, probably. Given her track record, she might be needing it sometime in the future.

“You killed him.”

Sara didn’t turn around, keeping her eyes on the smooth stone in front of her. _Sara Lance, 1987-2007, loving daughter and sister._ “You’re going to have to be more specific, Malcolm,” she said.

“Damien Darhk. You slit his throat, disguised as another inmate. I don’t suppose you told your friends. I doubt they would approve given their distaste for murder.”

“They’re good people. It’s the only reason you’re alive.” Sara rose to her full height. “You must have a death wish. Why else be here now, after what you did to me.” She had a few knives along with her staff, not that she needed them to take down a one-armed man.

“It wasn’t personal. If I hadn’t had you killed then you would have killed me.”

“At least _I_ would have done it myself, instead of drugging my daughter into doing it,” Sara shot back, turning to face him. “What are you doing here?”

Malcolm was calm as ever. “To ask you a question, Miss Lance. I may not have all the resources I had available while I was Ra’s Al Ghul but I still have considerable power at my fingertips. Despite that, I wasn’t able to find a trace of your involvement.”

“Yet you sound so confident when you said I killed him.”

He shrugged. “It’s process of elimination. There aren’t many capable of taking Darhk on in a fight, even without access to his powers. I know Oliver didn’t kill him or anyone in the organization he worked with. But then, I find out you returned home just a few days after his untimely death. It doesn’t take a genius to put the pieces together.”

“Your point being?”

“I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Vandal Savage. You’re familiar with him, I’m sure. He had some interesting things to say about you,” Malcolm said, smug. “It makes me wonder about the timing of your return. You fall off the grid and come back months later to kill Damien Darhk.”

Sara didn’t need to have a threat spelled out to see one.

“It’s convenient we’re already in a graveyard,” Sara mused out loud. “Saves me time disposing your body.”

“Kill me if you want. It won’t change a thing.”

“And letting you leave would?”

“It might. I do have some sway, a word from me could go a long way.”

“In exchange for what? Killing Oliver?” She took a step forward. “Because I know your word means so much?” She punched him right in the jaw. He rubbed the sore spot with his good hand. “Don’t tempt me, Merlyn. I can kill you right here, right now, save everyone a lot of trouble down the road.” Sara gripped the lapels of his suit. “Really starting to wonder why I _shouldn’t_.”

Malcolm glared. “If you want to kill me _then do it._ I’ve grown tired of hearing threat after threat. I wouldn’t have a grudge against Oliver if he’d just killed me during our duel,” he snarled, “if he put what little brains he had into realizing what he’d _done to me_.”

Seeing him like this, she remembered why Ra’s wanted him dead so badly. The man was delusional. Always right, always justified, no matter the sins he committed. No better than Savage or Darhk or the many others that had earned their deaths. Sara hit him again and again until she was certain she knocked him out. If she did a few too much, for the hell of it, well, nobody was around to prove it.


End file.
